Our Boys | Page 2

join in deeds unlawful, He'd lend his
name to worthless notes, He'd speculate in stocks and oats; 'Twas
positively awful, For he couldn't say "No!" He couldn't say "No!" He
would veer like a weather-cock turning so slow; He'd diddle, and
dawdle, and stutter, but oh! When it came to the point he could never
say "No!"
Then boys and girls who hear my song, Pray heed its theme alarming:
Be good, be wise, be kind, be strong-- These traits are always charming,
But all your learning, all your skill With well-trained brain and muscle,
Might just as well be left alone, If you can't cultivate backbone To help
you in life's tussle, And learn to say "No!" Yes, learn to say "No!" Or
you'll fall from the heights to the rapids below! You may waver, and
falter, and tremble, but oh! When your conscience requires it, be sure
and shout "No!"
M.E.B.

[Illustration: Going into the Chapel.]
THE CHRISTMAS MONKS.
All children have wondered unceasingly from their very first Christmas
up to their very last Christmas, where the Christmas presents come
from. It is very easy to say that Santa Claus brought them. All well
regulated people know that, of course; about the reindeer, and the
sledge, and the pack crammed with toys, the chimney, and all the rest
of it--that is all true, of course, and everybody knows about it; but that
is not the question which puzzles. What children want to know is,
where do these Christmas presents come from in the first place? Where
does Santa Claus get them? Well, the answer to that is, In the garden of
the Christmas Monks. This has not been known until very lately; that is,
it has not been known till very lately except in the immediate vicinity
of the Christmas Monks. There, of course, it has been known for ages.
It is rather an out-of-the-way place; and that accounts for our never
hearing of it before.
The Convent of the Christmas Monks is a most charmingly picturesque
pile of old buildings; there are towers and turrets, and peaked roofs and
arches, and everything which could possibly be thought of the
architectural line, to make a convent picturesque. It is built of graystone;
but it is only once in a while that you can see the graystone, for the
walls are almost completely covered with mistletoe and ivy and
evergreen. There are the most delicious little arched windows with
diamond panes peeping out from the mistletoe and evergreen, and
always at all times of the year, a little Christmas wreath of ivy and
holly-berries is suspended in the centre of every window. Over all the
doors, which are likewise arched, are Christmas garlands, and over the
main entrance Merry Christmas in evergreen letters.
The Christmas Monks are a jolly brethren; the robes of their order are
white, gilded with green garlands, and they never are seen out at any
time of the year without Christmas wreaths on their heads. Every
morning they file in a long procession into the chapel to sing a

Christmas carol; and every evening they ring a Christmas chime on the
convent bells. They eat roast turkey and plum pudding and mince-pie
for dinner all the year round; and always carry what is left in baskets
trimmed with evergreen to the poor people. There are always wax
candles lighted and set in every window of the convent at nightfall; and
when the people in the country about get uncommonly blue and
down-hearted, they always go for a cure to look at the Convent of the
Christmas Monks after the candles are lighted and the chimes are
ringing. It brings to mind things which never fail to cheer them.
But the principal thing about the Convent of the Christmas Monks is
the garden; for that is where the Christmas presents grow. This garden
extends over a large number of acres, and is divided into different
departments, just as we divide our flower and vegetable gardens; one
bed for onions, one for cabbages, and one for phlox, and one for
verbenas, etc.
Every spring the Christmas Monks go out to sow the Christmas-present
seeds after they have ploughed the ground and made it all ready.
There is one enormous bed devoted to rocking-horses. The
rocking-horse seed is curious enough; just little bits of rocking-horses
so small that they can only be seen through a very, very powerful
microscope. The Monks drop these at quite a distance from each other,
so that they will not interfere while growing; then they cover them up
neatly with earth, and put up a sign-post with "Rocking-horses" on it in
evergreen letters. Just so with the penny-trumpet seed, and the
toy-furniture seed, the skate-seed, the sled-seed, and all the others.
Perhaps the prettiest, and